Beauty Amongst the Stars
by moviedragon009
Summary: Stranded in a Galaxy far far away, a young woman is caught up in the battle to defeat an evil empire. But can she find a way to return back home to her enchanted kingdom before time runs out?
1. Chapter 1

_A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…_

The stars shimmered and blinked coldly in their perches, the light barely piercing the infinite darkness of the evening sky that blanketed the desert sands below and slowly chilled the surface of Tatooine after a day of burning heat. In these few hours of twilight, however, the temperature was actually surprisingly mild enough for one to walk around outside comfortably, and Luke was going to take advantage of the time as much as he could. Granted there was not much he could do in the short amount of time given, but after a long day of maintaining the moisture farm and repairing the old vaporators, there was only one thing that he wanted to do. That was to lie back and look up at the stars looking down at him.

It was actually sort of a regular thing for him to do when he wasn't shooting at wamp rats or racing his buddies in the speeder. He imagined that gazing up at the constellations in wonder wasn't something people on other, more populous worlds, would do, assuming that interplanetary travel was a regular thing, and that each star up above was merely another destination for a business trip or a vacation. He envied the people who could do just that. He envied them for not having to wonder all the time what it was like to wander through the forests of Kashyyk, sail through the clouds of Bespin, or even stroll through the city ways of Coruscant. He even dreamed of being able to fight in the civil war that was going on beyond this star system; sure he risked getting himself killed, but at least there was the chance to visit a distant world. He, of course, had to imagine such things; it was one thing to read about such things in holo-recordings and hear about them from visiting customers, what he wouldn't give to actually experience them first hand…

Sitting against the domed wall of his aunt and uncle's dwelling, he breathed in the cool, dry air of the late evening and flexed his spine, his seat enjoying the heat absorbed into the earth. He wondered what he would be lucky enough to see tonight before Aunt Beru called him back inside; every now and then there would be a small light zipping across the sky, indicating the presence of a cruiser, but that in itself wasn't very exciting, just another instance of mere traffic. But still, there was the question of where said cruiser had come from, and that could lead to a wide variety of wild theories. There wasn't very much intrinsic value in them, true, but it was still something for mild entertainment.

Sometimes, when the tiny, constant light of a cruiser did sail its way across the dark blue dome above, he quietly wished that it would change course, touch down in front of the Lars farm, and have its crew invite him aboard to take him somewhere far away, someplace he had never been before (which was pretty much every planet he could name off the top of his head) and then some. Was that too much to ask? What he wouldn't give to have something close to that happen…

Just then, there was activity up above, but of a kind that Luke hadn't seen; there were two lights sailing through the sky, a larger one chasing the smaller other, and there were small sparks popping around them. Grabbing his binoculars and pressing them to his face, Luke zoomed in on the lights as much as he could. From what he could tell, the pursuer was large and triangular in shape…an Imperial Star Destroyer, it had to be. The other one was far smaller, dwarfed by the gigantic battle cruiser trailing it, and from the look of it, Luke surmised the vessel to be a Corellian Corvette. Both were firing lasers at each other, though from what Luke could tell, it looked as though the Corvette was not winning. But would it? Was it possible for the people aboard to pull a trick from their sleeves and leave the Imps in the dust? More importantly, what did the Imperials want with that ship? His curiosity was ignited immediately…

"Luke!" the soft, wavering voice of his aunt came warbling into his ears, "Come on inside, there's food on the table!"

"In a minute!" he shouted back, never taking his eyes off of the action.

"Luke, if you stay out there for much longer, you're going to freeze to death!" Aunt Beru warned.

"Just a few more seconds!" he answered, but there was no way a few seconds could possibly satiate his excitement. He had to know how the answer to which of the two would win, that much he knew.

Firing a few more shots at the Corvette, the Star Destroyer closed in on its prey like a shark…and suddenly, the scene had become dark and blurry. Pulling the binoculars away, Luke discovered to his chagrin a whirlwind, turned frigid by the loss of the sun, blasting its way across the desert, pulling the sand and dust high into the air and becoming a great earthy brown cloud of stinging bits and particles.

Partly out of surprise at its surprise appearance and partly out of annoyance at the fact that it had disrupted the show, Luke wondered, where did this come from?

"Uncle Owen!" he shouted as he ran to the entrance, shielding his eyes against the onslaught of flying sand, "Dust storm!"

"Quick, get back inside!" his uncle's voice shouted back at him.

"What about the vaporators?" Luke shouted while trying to make sure he was heard above the howling desert tempest.

"Don't worry about them," Owen replied, "We'll unclog them in the morning! Now get back in here before you choke to death!"

Eager to get out of the sand storm, Luke staggered his way over to the main entrance—but then something caught his attention. In the furthest corner of his peripheral vision, he noticed a brief flash of light, even in the dense cloud of dust. Was it some sort of electrical malfunction, or was some scavenger bold enough—or stupid enough-to raid one of the evaporators in this weather? No, the light had emanated for far too long…

At that point, the wind decided to change direction, blasting Luke in the face and forcing him to turn the other way. And that was when he saw the vague silhouette of a person staggering around in the storm before collapsing to the ground.

"What in the world…?" he muttered. Who could that person possibly be, and why were they all the way out here? Regardless, he felt compelled to go and help the poor soul, and against his better judgment charged forward. He could faintly hear the cries of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru calling out after him, but precisely what it was they said was lost to him, both because of the storm and because he had other priorities at hand.

He reached the person just in time; lacking the time to fully investigate, he instead grabbed the fallen one's unconscious body by the waist, lifted it up, and hauled it back to the entrance—but this time he was upwind, impeding his progress a great deal. Pulling up the hem of his own shirt over his mouth and nose to keep out the debris, Luke trudged on with closed eyes, keeping in mind to walk straight forward and nothing else. At last, he felt his uncle's tough hands pull him back inside, and shut the door behind him, banishing the furious gale outside. Grateful to be back in, Luke pulled down his shirt hem and took in a deep breath, then shook his head furiously, casting out the sand and dust from his hair. He looked up into the eyes of his guardians, where both concern and appalling mixed and mingled.

"Luke Skywalker," Uncle Owen started off, noticeably irritated, "Were you trying to get yourself killed out—who's this?"

Luke only remembered then that he had brought a visitor with him. He looked down at the person in his arms; the stranger was a woman with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail that sagged down to the floor, covering her ground-facing face and wearing a very strange blue and white dress, the style of which Luke had never seen before, coated in thick dust and sand.

"I don't know," he explained, "I saw her outside; I don't know where she came from."

"Well, don't just stand there," Aunt Beru said, "Get this poor woman onto the couch!"

Obeying her word, Luke pulled the unconscious woman through the narrow, brightly lit halls of their home and onto a sofa. Turning her over right-side up, he finally got a good look at her…a very long, nigh hypnotized one. Even with her face coated in dust, the young woman was probably the most beautiful human being he had ever seen in his life up until then, with full lips and rose cheeks on a cherubic face.

Coming up from behind, Beru handed Luke a wet rag, and he set to work wiping away the dirt. However, as soon as the water made contact with her skin, the woman groaned and stirred. She blinked open wide, hazel-colored eyes, and looked at him and Beru in utter confusion.

"It's alright dear, you're safe," Beru said.

"…_Excusez-moi, mais parlez-vous français?_" the woman asked—or at least, Luke supposed that she asked. He didn't understand a word she said, but he could tell that it definitely wasn't Basic.

"I'm sorry dear," Beru replied, clearly just as perplexed as he was but trying to keep up a calming facade, "but I don't speak…Twi'leki."

"Oh, I apologize," the younger woman replied, "I failed to acknowledge the possibility that my hosts spoke English."

English…was that supposed to be another word for Basic? Already this woman was starting to get confusing. Were they all like this?

"Well, you just stay right there, and I'll grab you something to eat," Aunt Beru promised, and she left the room, shouting out, "Owen, next time the Jawas show up, could you get a protocol droid?"

Luke, meanwhile, turned his attention back to the brunette woman before him. "I'm Luke Skywalker," he said, "What's your name?"

"I'm Belle," she said, "Where are we?"

"We're at my Uncle's homestead," he answered.

"Where's that?" she asked.

"Just a few miles south of Anchorhead," he replied.

"…Where's that?" she asked again, looking more confused.

"Out on the Great Chott Salt Flat," he said, growing somewhat more concerned.

"…Where's that?" she repeated.

"Tatooine," Luke said, after a moment of hesitation.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them before Belle spoke again. At first, Luke thought she had finally gotten a grip of where she was…but then came her next words.

"Where's that?" she asked at last, very clearly becoming scared.

"…The Outer Rim," he answered again, then added, "of the Galaxy."

She stared at him disbelievingly, and then turned away, breathing deeply and holding her head in her hands.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No, no I'm not," she whispered, "First a castle full of singing and dancing furniture, and now this."


	2. Chapter 2

Belle had barely gotten any sleep during the long nighttime, having been kept awake both by the shock of where she had wound up and by the fear of being swept away to some stranger land than she had been before should she so much as close her eyes. Now that the pale light of dawn was breaking through, she couldn't bring herself to throw off the bed sheets and enter the world beyond…wherever that place was. Tatooine, did the Skywalker boy say?

At least insomnia had given her the benefit of being able to meditate on what happened; while the Lars' had been gracious enough to give her a bed for the night, she heard them say things like 'delirious' and 'delusional' while they had walked away from her room, which might have been insulting had they not been spoken out of concern for her health. Besides, she had been used to hearing those words all the time back in the village—except now they were referenced specifically to her, rather than her father, and this time they came with a sting that, while perhaps not intentional, nevertheless buried itself deep.

Maybe they were right this time, she thought. Perhaps somehow she had contracted some disease and had been hallucinating up a mysterious castle in the forest run by live furniture and kitchenware, and ruled by an intelligible, if not civil, animal. It certainly made quite a bit of sense; that whole experience probably would have made for some horrific fairy tale that, for all she knew, had probably read in a book before. Who would have believed her back at the village if she said such things? There was, however, one problem with that particular theory; she remembered it all too vividly, and dreams, not even the kind that shook one awake in the middle of the night, lasted with such veracity. Even now she could remember riding Phillipe, her horse, up to the iron gates, wandering through hallways crawling with demons rendered in stone, finding her father locked in a prison cell, and the Beast…that huge, hunched creature blanketed in brown fur, bearing sharp fangs in a long, ugly snout that bore down on her with those eyes…those bright blue eyes…

No, she couldn't have conjured all that up, not even in her wildest imagination—which, truth be told, could be pretty wild at times. No, she couldn't be the crazy one. If anyone was crazy, these Lars people were, what with all this talk of 'droids' and 'vaporators' and 'Jawas'…perhaps she had simply been transported to some foreign kingdom of sand, and these people were hermits who had lived out their entire lives in isolation, coming up with their own nonsensical words for things. Yes, that had to be it…but then logic kicked in. She had seen that there was no fire to be had in this place for light or for cooking; there were the bright white rectangles of light that hung from the ceiling and could be lit by the flick of a switch, and the bizarre flameless stoves, not to mention the myriad other things that lined the walls and filled the rooms that she had thus far seen. She was at a loss as to explain how these phenomena, while they managed to maneuver themselves with ease and comfort.

So maybe neither she nor this small, English-speaking rustic family she had fallen in with was crazy. As insane as it sounded, all the evidence thus far pointed to her having been in a fairy tale castle to suddenly being transported to a land of sandy desert—a desert world, if she understood properly (what sort of god would create an earth governed by only one topographical feature?). But again, the question remained: how did she get here?

She rolled over onto her left side, and as if in response to her query, she felt something hard push against her leg. Her curiosity was piqued; letting her body fall back onto her spine and pulling herself upright, she reached into her pocket, and felt smooth glass grace her fingertips. Removing the object, she found in her hand a crystal that glowed with its own inner light, though quite dimly. On closer inspection, she could see faint images of a human figure swinging through the air in red and blue and bipedal reptiles racing through verdant jungles …

The memories came back to her in flashes; she had been perusing the towering bookshelves in the library. So many books to choose from, and she didn't know where to start…then she had found the tiny wooden chest that, thank goodness, didn't try to start a conversation. It had opened without much resistance, though clearly having been left to itself for who knows how long…a burst of white…then something spooked her, and she began to fall…her hand clutching on the gems…the world dissolving around her in a shower of shards of glass…replaced by the whirling sand…

Was this small jewel the means of her displacement? It seemed insane…but given all that she had been through, it was a simple enough explanation. Could it also be the means of her return? It didn't seem too out of the question…the real question was how to do it. But how did she get from the castle to this homestead in the first place? Think Belle, she told herself, think back to when it happened…ugh, she couldn't grasp it! That moment had gone by so quickly; all she needed was one tiny piece of the puzzle, and it was lost in a sea of puzzle pieces. She had to figure it out; she had to get out of here…

Then she heard the alien noises down the hallway outside of her door, all the whirring, buzzing, and beeping to be had. She also heard Owen's gruff voice bark out unfamiliar jargon, and Luke's reply in similar jargon; they spoke of things like power converters, star systems, and so many other things. With a slight turn of her head, she could see the beams of sun coming through the blinds to her room, and was indirectly reminded of the outside world, an entire world of sand, like the foreign kingdoms she had only read about in books…

Did she really want to go? Wasn't this what she had always wanted; to find some adventure out there in the great wide somewhere? If she understood correctly, she was just about as far from home as she could fathom, perhaps even more so, and the Beast's castle hadn't been more than a day's journey away from the cottage she called home. What more could she ask for? Here was a shipload of opportunity for acquiring new knowledge, experiencing new things, and seeing sights and wonders that she had only begun to realize were possible…

_What about your word? _A small, quiet voice asked her.

That's right…she remembered her word to the Master of the Castle. When she had given it, there was nothing more she would have liked to do than to find some loophole in order to escape and return home, but after two months or so…she had begun to see things differently. The Beast had begun to change while she had been there, he had made so much progress…he had even told her his name…

What was he up to now? What sort of panic had she left him in? She couldn't bear the thought; true, it had been an accident, but she had broken her word, nonetheless. Now she had to get back, one way or the other. But how was she to do that? She wasn't making much progress with this gem; that much was for sure.

Then she had an idea. If this was a farm (a farm of what, though?), then there had to be some sort of settlement, nearby, and where there was a settlement…

She then decided what she would do. Surely it would all fall into place.

Climbing out of bed and putting the jewel back into her pocket, her bare feet touched down on the cold, grooved metal floor and she began to move through the rounded tunnel-like halls towards the source of the voices. To her surprise, she found herself standing in a round, open area deep within the orange earth, where potted plants of unique species were perched near large round windows, and where two constructs decked with antennae and other odd parts stood as a centerpiece. She spotted the gruff, grizzled Owen dressed in tan and brown and the homely Beru, in subdued blue and red clothing across from him at a table, sitting over a scant meal.

They greeted her first. "Morning, Belle," Owen said, "Up late, aren't you? Come here, take a seat."

She made her way over and curtsied politely before sitting down. "_Bonjour, monsieur, madame,_" she said,_ "_My apologies for my behavior, last night; I must have become quite delirious." True, she didn't like applying that word to herself, but what choice did she have? She might as well curry some sympathy with them.

"Well, what happened, exactly?" Beru asked.

Belle replied with something that was not quite a lie, but not quite a truth, either. "I'm not sure, really; all I know is that I was in one place, and then I was in another. It's not quite clear to me, yet."

"Well, you're lucky you stumbled upon us when you did," Owen remarked, "The Sand People might have gotten you first and eaten you…or worse."

"Are you from off-world, then?" Beru asked.

"Yes," Belle said, as much as it awed her to say it, "and I'd like to return home very much. Is there a mode of transportation I can take?"

"Well, the Mos Eisley spaceport's a good place to start," Owen answered, "Here's hoping you've got the credits to pay for a ride, though."

Credits…that had to be another word for money…something she realized that she was lacking in. But maybe there was a way to earn some.

"I…I seem to have lost mine out there in the desert," Belle lied, "But if it's not a great inconvenience, I would be more than willing to work here, just long enough to earn some money to pay for the trip. I've worked on my father's farm, so…"

Owen started to sit up in protest, but Beru beat him to the punch. "Do you know how to patch up and operate a moisture vaporator?"

"I can learn," Belle replied, "It shouldn't be too hard." She managed to put on a façade of confidence, but inside she began to quake. Could she learn how to operate a vaporator? Could she even figure out what in the world a vaporator was?

"I'm not sure…" Owen grumbled.

"Oh, come now, Owen," Beru protested, "All she needs is half a season's work to pay for a starship flight, and Luke can help her out. Besides, more hands make the job small, right?"

At the sound of 'half a season', Belle felt her heart drop a little bit. Would it really take that long? Did she have that sort of time to spare?

There was a long pause before Owen spoke again. "You get twelve credits a day," he said, "You can start by helping Luke out; he's up working on one of the vaporators right now. He'll show you the ropes."

Elated, though the thought of 'half a season' still weighed her down, Belle bowed slightly in her seat, saying "Thank you," before standing back up. "I'll start right away."

"Be sure to put something more durable on, dear," Beru said, "I've got some clothes that you can borrow."

Nodding, Belle left the two at the table and took off in the direction that Beru had pointed. She could hardly believe her luck, but at least she had started on the road to getting home.

* * *

Having slipped on a tan dress and a blue shirt, along with a white overcoat aged by years of usage, Belle made her way up out of the dwelling and into the burning heat of the sun. At first she was blinded by the desert heat, but her eyes grew used to it, and she was stunned to see miles upon miles of empty flatland, hardly a natural formation or sign of life to be seen, other than the small white towers that dotted the area here and there, though there was a range of barren mountains far off in the distance. She wondered, who could live in a place like this, and how?

After gazing around for a bit, she spotted a figure in white and tan hunched over in front of one of the towers, reminding her of her father hard at work on one of his inventions back home. She made her way over to him, and was surprised to find her brow already specked with beads of sweat after only twelve paces. It felt like she had stepped too close to a roaring furnace in this place…

She made her presence aware to him, and he looked up in surprise. "Belle!" he said, "What are you doing out here?"

"Your Aunt and Uncle asked me to assist you with the farm work," she replied as she arrived, "Owen said I'd have to work here until I raised enough money to buy passage off world." She saw that he had opened up a panel in the side of the tower, and was using a brush to scrub off clumps of sand from a structure that, for some reason, reminded her of the blinds on a window.

"Alrighty then," Luke said. "Is there anything you need to know?"

"Yes, actually," Belle replied, "What's a vaporator?"

Luke turned to give her a confused look. "Wow, you really ARE from off-world, aren't you?" he asked. He shrugged, and slapped the surface of the tower. "This," he said, "Is a vaporator."

"Oh," Belle said, "Well then, what does it do?"

Luke explained to her that the main source of income on this farm came from collecting water and selling it, and the only way to do that was through the use of the vaporators; according to him, these machines drew moisture in from the atmosphere through the use of a super-cooled rod inside the main pipe, where it condensed into water that would run down the pipes into a storage tank below the surface, where it would be sold or used to water the underground crops. "Of course, these things need a lot of attention," Luke continued, "especially after dust storms. So we have to keep working on these things daily. You got that?"

"I think so," Belle replied, "It sounds simple enough."

"So you really are an off-worlder?" Luke asked, "Where're you from? Alderaan? Ord Mantell? Nar Shaddaa?"

Again with all the strange names, she thought. "…Terra," she said, having settled on a familiar name with a twist.

"Never heard of it," Luke replied.

"Well, it is a fairly obscure place," Belle responded.

"Yeah, well, it can't be any more remote than this hunk of rock we're sitting on," Luke said. He briefly handed her the brush to hold for a minute before asking, "Well, what's Terra like?"

"I never really got around much," Belle admitted, "My father and I lived in Paris before moving to a small village in the countryside, but that's about all the serious travelling I've done." At his insistence, she went on to tell him about winter, spring, summer and fall, and how it affected the farm and its animals, and then she began to reminisce about her father, Maurice, and his love for devising complex machines to make life better. The more she spoke, the more she began to long to return to home, to at the very least see her father again…

"It sounds like you and your father were very close," Luke observed.

"You could say that, yes," Belle said.

"I never knew my father," Luke admitted, "He was the navigator on a spice freighter, or so my Uncle says. I think he must have died in an accident, or something."

"I'm so sorry about that," said Belle.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. Anyway," Luke continued, "Terra sounds like a really nice world. It's almost like the Empire never touched it."

"The Empire?" Belle asked. She hadn't quite heard of a domain that was simply referred to as 'The Empire'. "I…don't really see a reason why they should."

"From what I've heard, the Imps don't really need a reason to make people miserable," Luke said, "Everyone thought things would be great when it took the Republic's place after the end of the Clone Wars; one big strong leader with an army under his belt could keep things from falling apart. But honestly, they're just as bad, if not worse. They do horrible things to people that step out of line."

"That's terrible!" Belle stated.

"I know. But I've heard that there's some kind of rebellion going on out there; people are starting to fight back." Luke then shut the panel door on the filter and stood up, saying, "and one of these days, I'll get off this rock and join them…assuming my uncle doesn't keep me on the farm forever."

"I don't think he will," Belle responded, "You look old enough to strike out on your own."

"Nineteen years old," Luke specified, "and yet Uncle Owen keeps treating me like I'm ten." He then sighed, "You know, you should consider yourself lucky to visit another world, even if it's some Outer Rim junkpile like this one."

She shrugged cautiously. "We should move on to the other vaporators," she said.

Luke agreed, and they set off for the next one, but as they went, Belle took another look at her surroundings. Whatever the duration of a season was, she had the bad feeling that it would be a long one…


End file.
